


Up to Build Height

by peppermint_x



Series: Hermitcraft Oneshots [4]
Category: Hermitcraft, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Crying, Elytra, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Short One Shot, Workaholic Grian, also grian kinda gets unhealthily obsessed with winning the tower game, also if ur afraid of heights...not the one for you, ending is nice and sweet like cottened candy, so maybe dont read if you dont like detailed descriptions of overworking urself, some more of that sweet backstory, the ending is nice though i promise, this is a direct sequel to New Kid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 09:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19248730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermint_x/pseuds/peppermint_x
Summary: Grian can get a little too wrapped up in his work. Stupid competitions about the tallest house in Hermitville are no exception.





	Up to Build Height

**Author's Note:**

> *Rolls up after unannounced 4-month hiatus* hey. 
> 
> Will I ever write something that isn't hurt/comfort? Probably not. Enjoy this. This is a direct sequel to New Kid by the way. You don't need to read New Kid to understand whats going on here, but there is a couple mentions of the things that happened in New Kid. Enjoy!
> 
> tumblr: lemonade-cherry  
> mineblr: cherry-minecraft

It was a nice day in Hermitville. As normal, a cool breeze blew through the town, giving the air a bit of a chill despite it being the middle of summer. The wind rustled in the trees, and rainclouds were quietly approaching the sleepy village.  On the ground, gray shoes quietly hit the moist ground. Elytra wings fluttered down to come to rest on a red woolen sweater. The wind blew dirty blonde hair into a pale face. An equally pale hand came to brush it out of the way. It was peaceful. He looked up toward the approaching rainclouds. 

 

“No fucking way. This has to be some kind of joke.” Grian exclaimed. Mumbo’s house ever so slightly towered over his. Grian rolled his eyes and went inside. 

 

He made a mug of tea as the rain began to softly patter to the ground. He offered Villager-Grian a mug. He refused. Grian wondered if the villagers even knew what tea was. He took a nap. 

 

Grian woke up 3 hours later, and by then the rain had cleared.  He stepped outside, building materials in hand. The petrichor scent greeted his nose and he smiled to himself, before flying up and once again beginning construction on his house. When he finished, he sat on the roof of the tower, admiring his work. The rain started once again. It was peaceful. 

 

Hermitville was no longer peaceful. It was a scramble, up, up, up to the top. It was a climb, it was material gathering, it was splinters and papercuts and bruises, it was rockets and elytra and chaos. It was a race up, up, up to build height. 

 

Grian had graduated from tea to coffee. He was soaking wet from the ever-present rain. Villager-Grian glanced at him curiously. His elytra hung from the fireplace, drying in the heat as Grian sipped on his drink. The chaos reminded him all too much of the war. But Mumbo wasn’t here to stop him from overworking this time. He was tired. 

 

“Holy shit, not you too.” Grian groaned to himself the next morning when he was met with Scar’s base. “Now that’s just cheating.” He kicked the ground in frustration. Bringing down Iskall’s house had taken long enough, he couldn’t be bothered with this. He silently went inside and grabbed more wood. Up, up, up. 

 

He was winning, for now. He savored his victory, just one block taller than Scar’s base. He gripped the top of his tower, staring off into Hermitville. He smiled to himself, then began laughing. They couldn’t have something peaceful for more than a week, could they? The Hermits were always go, go, go. 

 

The bandage was delicately wrapped around his arm. He got to the end of the roll, frowning when he saw blood seeping through his arm. He supposed this was better than nothing, and he couldn’t be bothered to go all the way back to the Main Island just for some more medical supplies. It was just an axe cut, he’d be fine. He looked at his shulker box, close to the top full of wood, but not quite. It started raining, again. Why was it always raining in Hermitville? He supposed he could finish gathering wood later. 

Grian wondered if life had actually been slower on Evo, or if it just felt slower because they were in an older version. Sometimes he missed the more relaxed lifestyle. He remembered being bored out of his mind, always looking for something to do. That’s why he had moved here. Everyone else was finally moving at the same pace as him. Things were better for him here, it didn’t feel like the boredom was eating away at him. He missed being able to stop and breathe sometimes, even if it felt suffocating over there. 

 

They were getting quite close to the build height, Grian figured that they’d have to stop soon. It was raining again. He placed another block. A particularly strong gust of wind went by, and he fell off the tower, but quickly caught himself on the platform. He grabbed it with his injured arm though and winced at the impact. His arm was struggling to hold the weight of his body, but he managed to pull himself up. Why did he care about winning so much? Why was it so important that he came out on top of this trivial competition? The rumble of thunder accompanied him as he made his way up, up, up to build height. 

 

It was two hours later when he had finished. The storm was worse by then, and it couldn’t have been earlier than 11 pm.  He sat on the roof of the tower, admiring his work. The storm raged on around him. It was not peaceful. The rain pattered on his face. He watched the lightning flash on a nearby tree. He couldn’t tell if the water streaming down his face was rain or tears. He wondered why it rained so much in Hermitville. 

 

He went to fly down the tower. His elytra, dampened by the water, weren’t working. He fell, down, down, down. 

 

And landed safely in someone's arms, hearing a soft grunt from the force of catching him. He shivered, it was cold. He curled up closer to to the body, reached out for the soaked white dress shirt. He felt a suit coat being draped over his head, protecting him from the rain. 

 

“Grian, what the fuck!” Mumbo shouted, marching them to the doorway of Grian's house. “You’re sitting on top of the tallest building in Hermitville, during a lightning storm!”

 

Grian tried to apologize. “I-”. The “sorry” never came out. His throat closed. His world felt like it was shrinking and he felt like he was buzzing. His heart seemed to clench, pulling in his whole chest with it. 

 

“Shhh, shhh, you don’t have to say anything.” Mumbo whispered to him. He was quieter now. He heard the door to his house open and suddenly he was inside. Mumbo set him down but put his arm around his shorter friend’s waist before he could fall. A different pair of hands were on Grian then, leading him to the fireplace before guiding him to sit down.

 

Iskall peeled off his soaked shirt, setting it down before turning his attention to the blood-soaked bandage on Grian’s arm. He had never bothered to change it. Villager-Grian looked on, concerned. Iskall dried it tenderly, cleaning his wound before replacing the bandage. He handed Grian his favorite red sweater, and a pair of black sweatpants as well as new socks and an undershirt, before turning to face the wall. Grian was thankful for the privacy. He changed as quickly as he could, which was still pretty slow. He reached up to tap Iskall’s arm when he was finished. His jeans, socks, and underclothes joined the pile of wet clothes in the corner. Grian sat down by the fire. 

 

Mumbo returned, three mugs in hand. He sat one down on the ground, handed one to Iskall, and offered the other one to Grian. He tried to take it, but when Mumbo saw how his hands trembled he instead brought the glass to Grian's lips, tilting it ever so slightly. Grian took a sip. 

 

It was sweet. The sugar and honey was just enough, without being overpowering. Grian couldn’t remember the last time he had tea. It was warm, and comforting. He noticed then that Mumbo had also changed into a dry pair of warm pajamas. He sat and stared into the fire.

 

He smiled to himself. The clenching feeling in his chest had receded, the buzzing in his veins felt less, but he still couldn’t bring his lips to form the words he wanted to say, so reached out to his right, towards Mumbo, and to his left, towards Iskall. He grabbed their hands and squeezed. Grian hoped they got the message. 

 

Iskall had wrapped a blanket around all of them, and they all just stared into the fire. Grian was the first to fall asleep, then Mumbo, then Iskall. It was peaceful. 


End file.
